Name: Cosette Blanc
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Occupation: Takes care of the king's horses
Social Class: Third Estate
Financial situation: Moderately poor
Appearance: Thin, long brown hair that she usually wears into a bun, brown eyes. Fair skin. She has a beauty mark on the side of her nose.She often wears her reading glasses to read, a gift from her grandfather who was a noble, before he passed away.
Location: A cottage in Romainville.
Habitual locations: Home, King's castle, the streets of Romainville.
Daily routine: (typical day for you)
6:30 AM : Wake up and eats breakfast
7:00 AM : Heads over to the King's castle to begin her day..
8:30 AM : Checks in with the master horseman and begins to tend to the horses.
1:00 PM : Lunch. (Often she skips it to stay and read)
7:00 PM : Buys a loaf of bread and goes to borrow a book from one of the ladies in the castle she has become good friends with.
8:00 PM : Returns home for dinner.
9:00 PM : Free time.
10:00 PM : Bed time.

Personality/Quirks/Unique Personality Traits: Cosette is probably the only one in her family with sensible reasoning, an intelligent mind, and is as graceful as a queen. She absolutely loves to read, and has a love for animals.. Almost impossibly calm, as her brother and friends would put it, Cosette has a kind hard to any and everyone. She simply doesn’t understand why there is a need for these distinct social classes with extremely wide gaps between each class. She’s a goody two shoes and follows as if her life depends on it.

Past/individual-family history: Up until she turned 10, Cosette lived a very stable, balanced life in which her grandparents and parents were very fully involved, helping her to choose the right directions to go. Her love for reading came from her grandmother, and her love of animals from her father. When her grandparents died when Cosette was 12, she was devastated and became a very shy girl who kept everything to herself. Her mother passed away after giving birth to Cosette. She was hired into taking care of the king's horses through a friend of hers who was a maid in the castle. Her friend had highly recommended Cosette to join, and at the sound of the price and strong temptation to witness and work with the horses helped her to be where she is today.

Family: Dad (Lancel Blanc), older brother (Jourdan Blanc)

Social relations with your own and other classes (people you deal with or know about in the class, AND your opinions and feelings about them): Cosette isn't really one to discriminiate who her friends are and who's not. However to her, first impressions are really everything and a good first impression to Cosette is no doubt a lasting, positive one. However being from a third estate and working in a first estate location, Cosette has more insight to social classes than anyone else in her family, and tries her best to understand it. She's a lot more friendlier to fellow people of the third estate.

Religion: Catholic

Education: A little less than enough to get by.

Languages you speak: French.

Main privileges and/or hardships: She often has access to things that go around in the castle and within the castle grounds only, for example gossip. However her job is something she must go every day and stay for several hours, with the wage unexpectedly low, which bothers her a lot and proves to be a major disadvantage for both Cosette and her family.

Portrait: (find one online and paste it in)

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My Revolutionary Diary: Cosette Blanc


Journal One:


July 13, 1789
After another tiring day working, once again, with the King Louis XIV's horses, I went to the bakery as a daily routine. We were getting lower in money and working as the keeper of the King's horses wasn't quite cutting it off. Not that I would ever ask for a raise. that would be ridiculous. Any who, I quickly re-pinned my hair, smoothing out my dress before saying good bye to the head of all the horse keepers. As always, he bid me farewell with a hearty smile on his face. Something that didn't quite suit his appearance. Nonetheless the benevolence coming from his appearance was enough to fuel me for the long walk back home.Finally exiting the large gates that held the castle and its grand structures, I headed down to town, which was only a bit away from our cottage. Stopping at the warm, hot bakery, I got my usual loaf of bread, usually the last one. So basically, the worst one. But my family and I were glad to have at least something to eat each night. Almost every night. And maybe if we were lucky, in the morning as well. The only "proper" meal I got everyday (or when I worked) was when I was at the castle.
Anyways, as I was leaving the bakery, I was on the way back home when I saw a girl around my age painting. She looked similar to me too-without the birthmark on the nose. She had brown hair, blue eyes, a splash of freckles across her face and was really absorbed in whatever it was that she was doing. Interested, I went to her, admiring her beautiful artwork. This girl had talent. Joanna. That was her name. Joanna Chapelle. I introduced myself properly, and I realized that something really just clicked. We got into talking about the war that everyone knew was bound to happen any day now. And we were right, considering the fact that the day we met was the day her father and mine went to some fort in order to retrieve weapons needed for a full on battle. I explained to her about my father's position in the National Assembly--connections, don't ask. It was something I told a few people, simply because I worried that they would judge me. My father was wise, but his body was frail, so he was only able to attend meetings that were held place for discussions. I worried about him all the time, and worked hard at the castle in order to earn the money that I knew I deserved in order to fund my father and brother. He was gone today evening to make final discussions for the attack on Fort Bastille in order to retrieve weapons that would be needed for the inevitable gloom of the revolution. I didn't tell Joanna that part though. My father made me swear to keep it to myself and myself only. Serious government matters, Cosette. He had told me seriously with a playful glint in his eyes, something he always had no matter what. It gave me a slight bit of satisfaction at the fact that my father wouldn't be risking his life, but the fact that all these loyal French who could barely support their family let alone their selves were getting ready to fight to support their country? It was unreal to me, and Joanna agreed. Unsurprisingly, Joanna understood to everything I had said, and I felt a sense of relief flood through me; that was a first.
She was one of the few people of our age who really knew what was going on. Joanna thought the same as I did how wrong and irresponsible both the king and queen were. They handled the money very poorly, treating it like it was theirs when it's really ours we have to literally scrap out for. I wanted to talk more with her, but the ever punctual troops marched right on time to invade the National Assembly. Joanna had this look of fear in her eyes, so I quickly explained to her what it was all about. Collecting her art work we bid each other farewell and left. The girl wasn't sour like most third-estate teenagers. She was sweet, understanding, and I liked her a lot. I think I'm going to stop by at her spot in town more often. That is, if nothing else huge happens. I hope she'll be safe.


Journal Two:


June 12, 1791
Today I had a little run in with the King's favorite maid, Adeline Barousse She's blonde and thin, and if there's someone on this earth that I don't like, it would be her. There's even a rumor going around that she had an affair with the King. Anyways, the Master Horseman (the name he wants us to address him by) asked me to run a quick errand to find the King's secretary. Apparently it was for some top secret mission that he couldn't tell us about. I could feel yet another rumor brewing up, and we've had more than enough of those for the past few years. I'm starting to get sick of them.

But following the orders I entered the massive castle, beginning my search of a secretary I had only seen a few times around the stables and the field. Some time passed and he was nowhere to be seen. that the While I was looking around, I bumped into a figure. I opened my mouth to apologize, since most people that worked within the castle walls were in a higher position than I. But when I saw who it was, my eyes narrowed. "Watch where you're going," I spat venomously. Adeline's eyes turned into hatred slits to match mine, her full, pink lips curled into a nasty sneer. "I could say the same," she retorted. I looked down to see that there were clothes sprawled on the floor between us, and sighing Adeline leaned down to hastily pick them up. "Sorry about that," I apologized quietly, suddenly feeling remorseful. Adeline simply shrugged and I leaned down to help her pick up a few socks and a shirt. They were crisp, and smelled tauntingly clean. A luxury that many of us couldn't afford, especially in the midst of a revolution. The only crisp clothes I owned were the ones that I wore when I tended to the horses, and that didn’t last for a while.

Adeline and I both stood in awkward silence, when a booming sound resonated from the room nearest to us. In surprise the two of us swiveled our heads towards the direction. It was the King, being angry as usual. Without another thought the two of us instinctively moved closer to the King's chamber. Of course, eavesdropping was forbidden within the grounds. Feeling uneasy I suggested that we go back to where we were, but Adeline rolled her eyes, pressing her ear more firmly against the door. Sighing in exasperation I followed suit, realizing that we could only make out a few words. But it was enough for me to understand what it was about. The King was going to be part of the recently publicized "emigres.” He was planning to flee to Austria, the Queen’s original home, and reside there until the Revolution died down. How they were planning to achieve this, I had no idea. Examining Adeline’s lost look I quickly whispered to her in a hushed tone, the basics of what I knew or heard--mainly from my family. My eyes fixed themselves back to the door, trying to hear better, because now the voices were down to a whisper. GIving up I finally I tore my eyes away from the big doors and focused my gaze on the blonde in front of me. She looked somewhat...upset. Did I say something I shouldn’t have? I opened my mouth to ask when the secretary came out, his face flushed with pure frustration, giving the two of us a wry look. When he asked if we had been eavesdropping, we both shook our heads fervently. “The Master Horseman wants to speak to you about a top secret mission,” I quickly added, and the secretary’s eyes clouded with anxiety before giving me a curt nod and walking away, his heels clicking on the cleanly polished floor.

The two of us decided to keep it a secret, just between us, until it absolutely had to be known. What that classification necessarily was I’m not sure, but I think it somehow brought us closer together in an odd sense, and I’m not going to argue with that. It’d be nice to have someone my age to talk to around here.

However since my job was done within the castle walls, I really had no excuse to be where I was anymore. If someone caught me, I would be in fairly big trouble, and that really wasn’t what I wanted. I needed this job to support my brother and my ill father. I wasn’t about to risk this for trying to obtain seemingly useless information by eavesdropping around the castle with a blonde maid who supposedly had an affair with King Louis. I had no intention at all.


Journal Three:


March 14, 1802
Finally, France was at peace. Things seemed to be looking up, but I don't know, it might be way too soon with a dictator ruling your home. Country-wise. Back home, my family and I were trying to pick up the pieces of after the revolution and get everything back in order. Around the castle, things were also a mess. We had kicked ex-King Louis XIV and Marie Antoinette out (or let them have a little meeting with the beloved Guillotine-notice the sarcasm-) only to bring in yet another ruler--Napoleon. He was pretty short compared to the other men I’ve seen around the castle, but of course I wouldn’t say that to anyone around here or to him in person. Especially now that I had the role as the Master Horseman (or should I say woman) a title I still don’t understand after all these years. I had to keep in mind to change it soon. I was probably the only female in the entire castle to have a "leader" role. The previous person who was our leader retired, saying that he "couldn't handle all this French drama" and went back to Austria, his home. I was pleased with where I was, but with Napoleon's reign, attitudes toward women were definitely changed. We were treated a lot more poorly than before, which is really, really, really poor. I suppose it's a bit too soon to tell though--it's only been a few months since Napoleon was in the place he is now. I'm quite worried about what the future holds.

So naturally with a new king came new rules and obligations, whether we wanted to forget them or not. King Napoleon wanted a bit of a change around here, starting from the way his horses would be treated. Yup. That’s right. His horses. That just about proved that he was running the business around here now. So as the head of the workers in the stables, Napoleon had sent a messenger to ask me to completely refurbish the place--as if we had the money to!--starting from the hay to the food. Nonetheless he was the king, even though he appointed himself, and I decided to head to Romainville, since that was the place I knew best. Everyone was relatively friendly there, and since I at least knew everyone’s face and they knew mine, something good would have to happen.

Once in Romainville I looked around until I spotted a small, cozy market with a frail, pale red head organizing a variety of food. They looked delicious, and I realized how hungry I was. Her smile was inviting and I found myself being drawn into the entrance, almost as if by an invisible force. “Hi,” I managed to let out, and we immediately started talking business. Her name was Elaine Rémy, and she also lived around here, which explains why her smile and hair seemed so familiar. Only a year older than me, she seemed much more mature and well put, even if she was in the Third Estate (again, same as me) and we all were having a rough time trying to support ourselves. When I presented her an idea of being “the official sponsor of Napoleon’s horses,” she seemed intrigued. Once we had settled our deal, she gave me a generous amount of food that I could rationalize with the horses and everyone who worked at the stable. They were fresh and I could feel my mouth water. I thanked her, paid her the correct amount of money, before promising her that we would get in touch soon.

Her friendly countenance and benevolence towards me didn’t fail to intrigue me as a customer. I had seen her around before, and hopefully I would get to see her again, this time to talk about more important matters at hand like the recent end of our revolution. Being women, there were probably a lot more to consider about our rights than there were before.